


Down the Foxhole (And Back)

by slowjaems



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Taeyong and Johnny are Jisung's older brothers, also Jisung has some identity issues lol, animal tamer! Jisung, tiny demon fox! Chenle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-25 23:53:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18173099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowjaems/pseuds/slowjaems
Summary: Jisung lives in phases. He’s had his punk phase, in which he only listened to Paramore and Hot Topic’s checkered hoodies were his lifeline. He’s had his goody two shoes phase in which he joined the school’s robotics club, only wore suspenders and thick rimmed specs, and somehow made his way to the top of his class (his mother really enjoyed this phase). And now he’s pretty sure he’s in an extremely late blooming goth phase – black wardrobe, thick layers of eyeliner, and the notion of being misunderstood.Though Jisung is pretty sure that an emo phase doesn’t include a possessive, tiny fox demon, a city full of vengeful animalistic creatures, or the fact that he’s supposedly some sort of reincarnated great monster tamer.





	Down the Foxhole (And Back)

 

 

 

 

 

Jisung lived in phases.

While normal people kept track of time and memories by days, months, and years, Jisung viewed his life in phases. For every stage of his life, Jisung was a different person. Growing up meant changing and getting older meant developing. Unfortunately, Jisung found out at a very early age that getting older was terrifying and growing up was pretty scary too. One year passed, and then another came in which more expectations were added to the already lengthy list from the previous year. People expected more when it came to growing up; he had to be a bit smarter than his last age, he had to make the responsible decisions for someone of his new age, but most importantly he had to accept that he would never be his old age again – he had to get comfortable at whatever age he had stepped into. But with each passing birthday, Jisung only felt discomfort. It was getting harder to be “normal” for his age, whatever that meant.

While the rest of his classmates were eager to shout that they wanted to be doctors or singers (even if they were only seven and they cried after falling on the playground and their voices sounded like nails on chalkboards), Jisung didn’t even know what he wanted to be in childish naivety. It didn't help that when he was seven, his teacher called his mother in concern because she decided to have her class draw pictures of what they wanted to be when they grew up, and before Park Jisung left for the day, he turned in a blank piece of paper with the word “nothing” written at the top of it. Needless to say, his mother was concerned, so concerned that (poor) Jisung had his first unpaid internship experience at only seven years old. His mother forced him to accompany several people at work in hopes of igniting some sort of passion in him for well… _anything_. But his mother worked at a nursing home and his day there was spent crying because he thought the tapioca pudding was vanilla and screaming when dentures came flying at his face from the elderly that cooed over his appearance. It was more traumatizing than beneficial, and the next time his teacher had him draw a potential career, he drew several cups of tapioca pudding, red and white bingo checkers, and flying teeth – and then he crossed them all out with blotchy, permanent red marker.

His teacher was still not pleased but was somewhat less concerned because at least he knew what he _didn’t_ want to be. His father was a firefighter, and Jisung actually enjoyed his day at the firehouse, playing with the friendly dalmatians and helping to clean the big fire trucks – but of course he went and screwed it up by accidentally turning on the wrong fire hose. Jisung was then sprayed across the firehouse garage with a force so strong that it broke his arm and his will to ever become a firefighter. He returned to school with a cast and several printed flyers that he forced his big brother, Taeyong, to make about the dangers of fire hoses on the human body.   

After that, Jisung’s life consisted of figuring out who he didn’t want to be. He didn’t want to be a star basketball player like his big brother, Johnny, he didn’t want to be in charge of his school’s dance club like his brother Taeyong, he didn’t want to find dentures in his pockets before doing laundry like his mother, and he didn’t want to live off of microwave food because he was too afraid to use the stove in fear of starting a fire like his father. Still, Jisung had a hard time figuring out what he _did_ want to do. He wasn’t particularly good at anything. He could play basketball, but only on an average level. He could dance, but he still felt inadequate in comparison to his brother Taeyong.

At age ten, Jisung remembered the drawing for his second-grade teacher, and he realized that perhaps he was right. He couldn’t be so many things, but he could be nothing. The day that Jisung decided to be nothing, he refused to talk to anyone because "nothing" doesn’t speak. His mother tried to coax him into speaking with promises of cupcakes and chocolate cake, his father brought the Dalmatian home from work (only to smile sheepishly when it simply peed on the couch instead of helping in the “get Jisung to talk” campaign), and his brother Johnny even offered to take him to the gym to play basketball, but though Jisung was nothing, he wasn’t dumb – he knew that was code for having Jisung run after the ball while he flirted with every breathing being in the gym. Nothing worked – Jisung spent nearly an entire day as nothing until Taeyong came into the living room and put on a movie. Jisung had never seen _Jurassic Park_ until that day, and even now, he’s really grateful that being nothing was easiest in the living room, because then he wouldn’t have seen the movie that changed his entire perspective on himself.

An hour and a half later of watching dinosaurs run a muck, Jisung decided that he didn’t want to be “nothing” anymore.

Instead, he wanted to be a Paleontologist. So, he begged Taeyong to take him to the mall, and an hour later he had an ensemble that made him feel official: a tan cargo set, a magnifying glass, a notebook to keep track of his data, a small camera that dangled around his neck, and a pair of circular, brown specs for appearances sake. His mothers only concern was that Jisung refused to wear anything else – but he knew that she was happy that he was finally identifying with something. Jisung spent his days poring over books with words too big for him to understand and stealing his brother Taeyong’s laptop and Johnny’s phone to look up pictures of dinosaurs and fossils. After school, he forced whoever he could find (mostly Taeyong, who was unable to say no to Jisung) into “venturing” into the slightly wooded area behind their house, which mostly consisted of Jisung staring at plants and holes in the ground through his magnifying glass and theorizing that such things probably existed during the time of dinosaurs (and though it made no sense, his brother Taeyong played the part of obedient assistant and listened intently to Jisung’s nonsensical rambling). Jisung dedicated the rest of his fifth-grade career to discovering an ancient breed of dinosaur that he believed still roamed the Earth in some sort of remote part of the world. Of course, after many late nights drawing out maps and pictures in his notebook, forcing Taeyong to watch Paleontologist documentaries with him, and scoping the entirety of his neighborhood for evidence, Jisung found that being a Paleontologist was a bit _too_ hard, especially when no one took him serious and his classmates laughed at the thick rimmed specs that hung on his nose.

Being a Paleontologist was no longer exciting, but more so tiring, and by the time he had to enter middle school, Jisung gave up on it entirely.  

He entered middle school in a blank slate – just Jisung, no magnifying glasses or dinosaur doodle filled notebooks. But he started to feel a bit lost and worried, all of his friends had found meshes and once again, Jisung was left out of the loop. He watched and waited for a group for himself. But he failed to find one, because none spoke to him, the hard to please Park Jisung. So, he decided to force his way into one. Unfortunately, the one that was the most popular were that of the punk kids. Eighty percent of the sixth-grade student body wore checkered jackets, colored skinny jeans, and had apparently been betrayed by the world. Jisung couldn’t relate, but he pretended that he could. He raided his brother Taeyong’s closet for all of his skinny jeans, and this time, he forced Johnny to take him to the mall, where he recreated himself at the local Hot Topic. His mother, excited that he’d found a new way to “express himself”, helped him dye his hair blond with a burnt orange streak in the front that his punk friends told him was pretty creative on his part – his brother Johnny said that he looks like a walking early life crisis.

His dad even accepted his newfound persona and drove him three hours away to the next city over for a concert headlining one of the most popular punk bands of their time. When they get around to playing their hit single, Jisung stood front row and pretended to relate to a song about hating an absent father, even though his own dad was standing right beside him. His punk phase was his longest, but it crashed and burned when Hana Jung, a girl he’d had a crush on since the first grade, asked him to be her boyfriend in the eighth grade. Hana was cute and sweet and maybe in sixth grade Jisung would have readily agreed – but instead thirteen-year-old Jisung called Hana a poser and told her that she knew nothing about the world, or him, since technically, he was a part of the world too. It was stupid and it made no sense, but it made Hana cry and feel so embarrassed that she told her older brother, who just so happened to be the school’s star quarterback. Needless to say, Jisung ran straight home after the final bell and retired his punk phase quicker than his father came up with his water analogies.

Despite the disaster, Jisung continued to live in phases.      

His first year of high school he had a theatre phase. He read the entirety of Shakespeare’s collections and committed himself to acting in every last one of the school’s plays (which greatly pleased the school’s drama head, Lee Donghyuck). His mother would readily sew up costumes when Jisung came to her with design ideas and Taeyong pretended to understand when Jisung took to speaking Shakespearean language only for an entire month. Unfortunately, his theatre phase was just the start of even more awkward, strange phases. He had a dying poet phase in which he read an Emily Dickinson poem every morning to his family for breakfast then locked himself in his bedroom, devoid of all light for days on end while he recited random poetry lines. He had a hipster phase in which he only listened to indie rock, tried to learn the acoustic guitar, and lived off of dark coffee. He had a goody two shoes phase in which he joined the school’s robotics club, only wore suspenders and thick rimmed specs, and somehow made his way to the top of his class (his mother really enjoyed this phase). And even more phases followed: there was the photographer phase, the science nerd phase, the passionate journalist phase, the superhero phase.

Park Jisung never ran out of people to be.

He figures that by eighteen, he’ll have figured out which phase resonated with him the most. Just who really was Park Jisung? But he still has an entire year to go. Now, at seventeen, he’s in a very late emo phase. He realizes that everyone else already had such a phase in middle school, when he was still holding on so very tightly to what was left of his punk phase. But no worries, Jisung lives life at his own pace. He’ll find himself at his own pace. For now, he’s content to wear all black and figure out why the world is so against him all of a sudden.

Though it’s just another phase, for Park Jisung, it’s another step closer to finding himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 _______

 

 

 

 

 

“What the hell is that thing in your nose?”

Park Jisung rolls his eyes. Sluggishly, he drags himself into the kitchen, his black socks dragging across the floor as he goes. The dark-haired teen squints at the bright sunlight that filters in through the lime green curtains of their families’ kitchen. Moving on autopilot, he approaches the kitchen table, pulling out a chair and plopping down with as much dramatic emphasis as he can muster. And then, he leans back in his chair and glares at his older brother, Johnny, who’s already seated at the table alongside their parents. Johnny is shoving spoonful after spoonful of cereal in his mouth while his other brother Taeyong rushes back and forth to finish making breakfast for the family, their mother is smiling pleasantly over a cup of coffee, and their father is ignoring his own cup of coffee to stare off blankly with squinted eyes, most likely coming up with his daily analogies.

“A representation of my dark soul.” Jisung answers finally, fumbling with the black nose ring that now adorned his face. He had gotten it at the mall yesterday with the rest of his friends – well technically, they weren’t friends. Emo’s didn’t have friends, just people they congregated with to express their individual emo-ness.

“That’s nice, honey. I’m glad you’re expressing yourself.” Their mother says with a calm smile before taking a timid sip of her coffee. Their father snaps out of his daze then, seeing the opportunity for what it is.  

“In order to induce the process of growth, water is necessary.” He says with his best wise expression. He looks constipated at best, but no one has the heart to tell him. Instead, they merely watch as he adds as if it were the wisdom of a monk, “In Jisung’s case, the water is his new identity.”

Taeyong stops in his crisis of deciding how much milk to put in the pancake mix to nod at his father’s words, as if they were truly the most wise, something that makes their father beam proudly, already thinking of how he was going to trademark his words and figure out how to get them put on the nearest Hallmark card.

“That didn’t make sense.” Johnny says very bluntly, looking back and forth between Jisung and their mother, “Who’s going to tell him that it didn’t make sense?”

“Honey“ Their mother says, grabbing their father’s hand and squeezing gently, “Let’s try to stick to firefighting, okay? Philosophy isn’t really your strong suit.“

“In order to detox ourselves of the things that we do not need, water is necessary.” Is their father’s response that makes every last one of them (minus Taeyong who simply smiles out of sympathy) groan, “In my case, the water is-“

“That’s it, I’m leaving.” Johnny interrupts their father’s “sagely” words. He scoots his chair from the table, standing quickly and picking up his bowl of cereal to drop in the sink on his way out.

“You don’t want to stay for breakfast?” Taeyong calls out to him in mild panic. His brunet hair is disheveled, falling into his face as he attempts to wipe the counter, now soaked with milk from the entire gallon that’s spilled, with only a single paper towel.

“A breakfast is going to come out of that?” Johnny snorts, glancing at the soaked napkin that his brother is still using to try and sop up the rest of the milk before looking at Taeyong with mild sympathy, “No thanks. I’ve managed to avoid the weirdness virus that seems to love our family. But who knows, it might be contagious. With a mother addicted to namaste, a father who measures his worth in water analogies, and now a brother with a soul darker than a permanent marker, you and I are the only normal ones left. But, you know, its every man for himself. Save yourself, Taeyong, save yourself.”

Johnny squeezes Taeyong’s shoulder, shaking his head as if there were truly no hope for their family, before he turns and stalks out of the kitchen.

“Have a great day honey!” Their mother calls after Johnny’s retreating form in the same moment that Taeyong steps back from the counter, missing the milk that’s spilled onto the floor. Jisung blinks blankly as Taeyong falls behind them, a small squawking noise leaving his lips as he flails his arms, hitting the floor with a loud _thud_. Their mother smiles serenely as Taeyong slides along the milky floor and their father squints in the distance again, focusing intensely to come up with more water analogies. She takes a sip of her coffee then before addressing her youngest son, “Jisung, honey, do you think you could take out the trash? Johnny usually does it, but since he was in such a rush, I’m afraid he wasn’t able to this morning.”

Jisung nods because emo’s don’t really speak that much. But his mother seems to understand because she beams pleasantly before unlocking her phone. And Jisung swears he sees a Google search for “how many water analogies to suffer before divorce is okay”, but emo’s don’t really concern themselves with the business of others either, so he ignores it. Since breakfast will take a while and he wants to make himself scarce before his father can come up with a new analogy, Jisung decides to go ahead and take care of the trash. He scoots his chair away and stands, making his way to the other side of the kitchen on quiet footsteps. He removes the trash bag from the can and slips on the pair of sandals beside the door, only pausing to glance at where Taeyong has taken off his shirt and is trying to wipe the milk up from the counter with it instead of getting more napkins like a normal person.

And then, Park Jisung shakes his head before opening the kitchen door and stepping outside into the early morning. The door slams gently behind him and Jisung squints at just how bright the sun is before dragging the trash along to the alleyway where the neighborhood dumpster is. Luckily, it’s a short walk considering their house is directly beside the alleyway. Blearily, Jisung makes his way to the small alleyway lined with dumpsters and the stray bits of trash that fail to make it inside of them. He locates their dumpster, 2502, and makes his way to it. He heaves the trash up before him and tosses it into the dumpster. But just as he turns to leave, the sound of shuffling catches his attention. Jisung freezes, focusing his hearing in the silence for a quiet pawing sound.

“What the-“ The dark-haired teen murmurs, looking around for the source of the noise. He doesn’t spot anything outright. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his black sweats and starts to walk further down the alleyway. He eyes the rows of trash wearily, frowning when he doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. That is, until he comes across one particular trash bag, that seemed to be moving, albeit only slightly. Slowly, Jisung removes his hands from his pockets, to make running easier in case he needed to make a dash back home. And then, on hesitant footsteps he approaches the trash bag, holding his leg out and pausing before pushing the trash bag aside with his foot.  What he sees makes his guard go down almost instantly. He’s expecting a rabid dog or a wild raccoon – instead, Jisung takes in the soft, puffy tufts of golden hair, the small paws clawing at a half-eaten watermelon, and the big, warm brown eyes that stare up at him in surprise.

“What are you doing back here?” Jisung questions, smiling as he bends down to greet what he believes is a tiny kitten. The only abnormalities he found were the kitten’s tail, which seemed fluffier and bigger than usual – Jisung is pretty sure that it could wrap around the kitten, _twice_. That, and the kitten’s eyes weren’t slanted, but wide and big, glimmering like pools of hot chocolate on a winter’s day.  The kitten makes a small mewling sound before abandoning the watermelon to come and brush against Jisung’s legs. The action makes the dark-haired teen smile, and he realizes then that the tiny kitten is probably hungry. With a frown, Jisung digs in the pockets of his sweatpants where he’s surprised to find animal crackers from the previous day (Taeyong insists on sneaking them into his backpack likes he’s still five and not in high school). The kitten stares up at him, head cocked to the side at the sight of the animal crackers packet. But when Jisung tears it open and a cracker nearly falls out, the kitten grows excited, standing on its hind legs and pawing at Jisung’s legs eagerly. Jisung smiles at the action, holding an animal cracker out for his new tiny friend, “Here, this is better than that watermelon, right?”

The kitten gives a tiny leap, snatching the animal cracker into its mouth and downing it in one gulp in a way that makes Jisung laugh. The kitten looks up at him eagerly then, ears twitching as if it adored the very sound. The cycle continues then, with Jisung offering an animal cracker and the small kitten jumping up eagerly to devour it. At some point, Jisung works up the courage to reach down and pet the kitten, who purrs eagerly in response, eyes slipping closed briefly as its lengthy tail drags back and forth along the ground excitedly.

“I wish I could bring you home.” Jisung says, frowning when he realizes he’s out of animal crackers and the kitten will have to go back to its half-eaten watermelon, “But dad is allergic to cats-“

“Jisung!” A familiar voice calls out, making Jisung’s frown deepen when the kitten startles, scattering behind one of the piles of trash to hide. The dark-haired teen glances at the end of the alleyway to find Taeyong approaching, still shirtless and now waving his milk-soaked t-shirt with a happy expression, “I got the milk up and the pancakes are finally cooking!”

“That’s nice, hyung.” Jisung hums, ignoring the startled looks of the group of people who have come to throw out their own trash only to see Taeyong shirtless, waving a wet t shirt. Jisung cocks his head to the side then, questioning his older brother, “But if you’re out here, then who’s going to flip them?”

Taeyong’s eyes widen almost comically then, and he turns around, running through the crowd of people holding their trash, waving his wet t shirt and frantically shouting about his pancakes. Jisung laughs as he watches his brother disappear. Ignoring the looks of the bystanders, he prepares to leave, but not before looking back for any sign of his kitten. When he sees that there is none, he frowns, but figures there’s nothing he can do. He turns to leave, following in the direction of his frantic brother, and ignoring the whispers of his neighbors about the odd Park household.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 _______

 

 

 

 

 

 

School is awful, terrible actually. Well… it’s actually not so bad. But Jisung is emo, and everything in his life is just not enjoyable. So, he sits in the back of his advanced Literature class and pretends that his life is really going downhill. He sits at his desk, chin resting in his palm that’s propped up as he glares at nothing particular. Lee Donghyuck, who’s tolerance for Jisung slowly dwindled following the end of his theatre phase, is sending him disdainful glances, especially at his nose ring. And Jisung may be emo, but he isn’t a walking museum attraction.

“Is there something wrong with my face?” Jisung asks finally, glancing at the brunet senior who merely shrugs in response.

“A lot, actually.” Donghyuck retorts, motioning to Jisung’s nose ring, “We can start with that metal rod hanging out of your nose.”

“Leave him alone, Hyuck.” Mark Lee, Donghyuck’s boyfriend and one of the few school jocks who didn’t beat Jisung up when he was going through his science nerd phase, speaks up, though its more of a mere mumble. Mark’s face is glued to his phone, and so his argument rings null to Donghyuck, who promptly ignores him to continue glaring at Jisung.

“Yeah, leave him alone, Hyuck.” Na Jaemin speaks up from the desk behind Mark and Donghyuck. Jisung became somewhat close with him during his passionate journalist phase, considering Jaemin used to be in charge of the school newspaper. They all watch as the brunet smiles pleasantly before adding with a casual shrug, “I mean, I wouldn’t be so worried about Jisung’s nose ring when Mark is exchanging memes with Jeon Soyeon.”

“You’re _what_ -“ Donghyuck blurts out angrily, turning an accusatory glare on his boyfriend, who looks up from his phone in surprise.

“It’s not what you think.” Mary says quickly, shooting Jaemin an annoyed looked, before explaining, “We have the same math class and we all have a group chat with a few of our friends. Sometimes we talk about the homework, but most of the time we’re just sending memes and joking around. Right Jeno?”

Lee Jeno, who’d been laying sluggishly with his head on his desk, as he always did before class, nods with his head still strewn across his desk. Jisung remembers Jeno helping him get better with his camera during his photography phase. During that time, Jeno had been working on a portfolio for his two friends Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin. Jisung could never forget how passionate Jeno had been, how he only allowed the editors to touch up everything in the photos but Jaemin and Renjun – he said he didn’t want them edited, they were already fine, already _perfect_.

“He’s not lying about the group chat.” Jeno confirms, voice thick with sleep. He had probably dozed off a bit before Mark called on him. At the sound of his tired voice, Jaemin smiles so brightly that it expresses how whipped he is for Jeno. He reaches over, ruffling the other boy’s hair when Jeno adds, “But you and Soyeon are the only ones who send memes to each other _outside_ of the group chat.”

Jisung has never seen someone look so betrayed as Mark does when he looks back at Jeno. His eyes widen before he seems to realize how guilty he looks, and he quickly turns to try to explain himself to his boyfriend. But it’s too late, Donghyuck is already packing up his stuff to change seats.

“I knew it.” Donghyuck grumbles, shoving his notebook in his backpack none too gently, “You really can’t trust anyone with the last name Lee around here.”

“Wait” Jaemin says, confusion evident on his face as he points out, “Isn’t your last name Lee?”

Jisung really has to resist the urge to laugh or even smirk in amusement (emo’s don’t show emotion), when Jaemin scoots his chair out quickly just as Donghyuck himself stands, backpack raised over his head, prepared to hit Jaemin with it.

“Wait, Mr. Lee, please, wait!” Their teacher calls from upfront. Mr. Kim, their advanced Literature teacher, is a quirky man. He always wore polka dot suspenders and glasses so round and wide, they made his eyes look twice as big. His passion was plays, and when Jisung was going through his theatre phase, he gladly supplied him with his collection of Shakespeare’s best plays. Now, he’s gesturing wildly for Donghyuck to hold off on his attack. Donghyuck listens of course, lowering his backpack slowly. Mr. Kim smiles before addressing the class, “This is really the perfect situation. Today we will be covering Julius Caesar, a dictator of the Roman Republic, who is most famously known for his assassination in the Senate, as conspired by his friends Brutus and Cassius. Reading the play would be nice, but I thought acting it out might be even better. With that said, I think we already have the perfect set up! Donghyuck as Julius Caesar, Mark as Brutus, and Jaemin as Cassius.”

Donghyuck, who had been upset mere seconds ago, is already beaming at the prospect of having a lead role, Jaemin just looks eager to “betray” Donghyuck again, and Mark looks horribly embarrassed, whether its because of the Soyeon situation or the fact that he’s been given the role of Brutus, Jisung doesn’t really know. He just knows that this situation would have been perfect if he were still in his theatre phase. But emo Jisung is annoyed – life isn’t some play to be acted out. He doesn’t want to participate in such a ridiculous thing, so he hopes that he can get by without being assigned a role.

“Now, I thought that the most interesting thing we could do was to start with the famous assassination scene. With that being said, I have with me a box full of togas and wooden daggers. The rest of you who aren’t Mark, Donghyuck, or Jaemin, are assassins. Please, take a toga and a wooden dagger and have at Mr. Lee.” Their teacher, Mr. Kim says, dragging two separate boxes to the front of the class. Once they’re safely up front, he claps his hands happily, trying to encourage his tired looking class, “Up, up everyone! Let’s take down a monstrous dictator!”

Mr. Kim makes his way to Donghyuck then, forcing a red toga over the startled boy’s head while the rest of the class crowd around the boxes, helping each other into white togas and arming themselves with wooden daggers. When Jisung looks over, Jaemin already has a white toga on and is smirking as he holds up his wooden dagger. Behind him, Jeno is taking a picture of Jaemin, saving it as his wallpaper afterwards. Mark seems to be having a mental breakdown as their classmates shove a toga over his head and place a wooden dagger in his hand before pushing him to the very front of the crowd.

“Okay Mr. Lee, you’re just going about your day, having a good time, simply strolling through the Senate, admiring the view and then, oh, there’s your good friend Brutus and Cassius and about sixty other people. What could they be up to? And so, you go over there and you’re all like, hey guys, it’s such a nice day today, isn’t it? But then they’re like, _boom_! Yeah, it’s a nice day to get _stabbed_! So, they stab you a good twenty-three times and you’re all shocked and hurt, and all that good stuff, until you die a horrible death on the Senate floor.”  Mr. Kim instructs, patting Donghyuck’s shoulders as if preparing him for a boxing match, “Sound easy, Mr. Lee?”

“Actually, what about an alternate ending?” Donghyuck proposes, cocking his head to the side with a devious smirk, “One in which I stab Mark and he dies the horrible death on the Senate floor instead?”

“Well, that’s not historically correct-“ Mr. Kim attempts to refute, but Donghyuck is already charging out of his hold at Mark, who’s trying to explain to Jeno that sending memes does _not_ equate to flirting. Jeno himself is only nodding and pretending to care to make Mark feel less stressed than he looks. He doesn’t even notice Donghyuck headed directly for him, red toga swaying behind him. But fortunately, Jaemin does and he steps in front of Mark just in time.

“Protect Brutus!” Jaemin exclaims, raising his wooden dagger and rallying his crowd of classmates in the process. They let out various battle cries before charging at Donghyuck, who’s eyes widen when he realizes its too late to turn back. And so, Jisung watches as a sea of white togas crowd around the Lee boy, swallowing him and his red toga whole as they “stab” him with their wooden daggers. Mr. Kim looks horrified briefly before climbing on top of one of the desks and pulling out his cell phone to record.

“You’re doing amazing, Donghyuck! Best Julius Caesar out there!” Mr. Kim exclaims, zooming in on his iPhone, “Just keep dying on that Senate floor!”

“For the love of God, someone help me!” Jisung can hear Donghyuck shout from the crowd, but the only thing he can see is a bit of his red toga as he lies on the floor being assassinated.

“I’m coming, Hyuck!” Mark calls out worriedly, prepared to go and help his boyfriend. But Jaemin emerges from the crowd and stops him directly in his tracks.

“Back down Brutus or you’re next.” Jaemin threatens, and just as Mark prepares to ignore him, Jeno appears behind Mark, sneaking an arm around his neck and holding him hostage with his wooden dagger.

“My God, they’re so talented!” Mr. Kim exclaims, clutching his chest with his free hand as if he were on the verge of collapsing while he continues to record with the other, “The acting, the passion, the delivery, the power, the flavor, the-”

Jisung adverts his gaze from the fall of Lee Donghyuck then. He slips his phone out of his pocket and texts the only two responsible adults in his life.

 

 

 

**To: Mom and Taeyong, 2:15 p.m.**

_Can I transfer schools?_

 

 

He waits a second, blocking out Donghyuck’s shouts and Mr. Kim’s excited blabbering, before his phone vibrates, and he quickly unlocks it.

 

 

 

**From:**

**Mom, 2:16 p.m.:** _No_

 **Taeyong, 2:16 p.m.:** _No_

 

 

 

And so, Park Jisung sighs before heading to the front to grab a toga and wooden dagger to play his part in the fall of Lee Donghyuck.

 

 

 

 

 

 _______

 

 

 

 

 

Jisung skips the last thirty minutes of his last class, Chemistry, to truly come into his role as an emo. He sits with the rest of the emo kids, on the steps of the back of the library, in silence. The silence represents the time the world could use to understand them, or at least that’s what Jisung thinks one of the other boys told him. He’s actually not sure why they sit there in silence. But he shows up faithfully everyday in his all black. The stairs look like a sea of black with all of them sitting there, and Jisung feels particularly bleak and angsty because of his new nose piercing. He takes out his headphones then, black ones of course, and plugs one in, playing the Bring Me The Horizon playlist he made the night before. Jisung absentmindedly chews on a piece of chewing gum, feeling content as he melds into his phase perfectly.

And everything is perfect until he feels a light tap on his shoulder.

It’s Hana Jung, smiling shyly down at him. And she’s so _not_ emo – Jisung cringes at her bright pink skirt, her knee length, bright white socks, and the way she stands there with her hands behind her back nervously, a pink and yellow lunchbox held gingerly between her fingers.

“Jisung!” Hana exclaims cheerfully, plopping down on the library steps beside him. She smiles brightly, tucking a stray strand of light hair behind her ear, “Is everything okay? I thought you had Chemistry during this time?”

The other emo’s look at him then, as if to say, “get rid of the cheerleader” and Jisung scrambles to not let his panic show. Did he not look unapproachable? Why did Hana think it was okay to come and disturb his infinite gloominess?

“Chemistry will mean nothing when all the sadness in the world catches up to us and we’re all paralyzed in clouds of darkness and despair.” Jisung says, and he thinks he’s in the clear when Hana’s smile falters slightly.

“Oh, that’s a bit… depressing.” She replies finally, pausing to clear her throat before forcing another bright smile, “I uhm… I guess I just wanted to ask if you have a date to prom yet?”

Hana looks down before glancing at him shyly out of the corner of her eye. Her cheeks resembled her lightly dyed, pink hair and emo Jisung is desperate now, more than ever, to get rid of her.

“Prom is still seven months away.” He tells her blandly, watching as she seems to take his words for rejection, before hope springs in her eyes and she quickly recovers, perking up slightly.

“You can never be too early with these kinds of things.” She says weakly, smiling awkwardly before looking down at her lap.

“Yeah, but seven months is still a lot of time. We might be dead in seven months.” Jisung replies, mustering up all of the angst within him to bear a dark look, “The world is so cruel and dark that death may take us by then. In the darkness, it’s hard to see the future, Hana. Who’s to say there will even be a prom by then? Who’s to say there will even be an us by then?”

A small silence ensues, and Jisung believes he may have won. Hana should be leaving with her silly frilly lunchbox soon, and he could resume being emo in peace. But instead, she stays, much to Jisung’s dismay.

“Wow… Jisung.” Hana says after a while, looking a bit taken back, “That was so dark.”

“Was it?” Jisung replies eagerly in response, surprised that his act was really working. But when he realizes he’s gotten out of character, he mentally scolds himself and quickly resumes his “dark” expression, “I mean, it was, totally dark. But the darkness is just a representation of my soul… which is like really, really dark… like if you took a dark crayon, a dark color pencil, and a dark marker, it’d probably be like the marker… and like, the permanent kind, like a Sharpie, not like the magic marker kind or anything like that-“

“Okay, Jisung, I get it.” Hana interrupts, finally looking bothered by his act. But she doesn’t want to appear anything but sweet to her crush, so she forces a smile and tells him with as much patience as she can muster, “Just think about my offer, okay?”

And then, before Jisung can tell her that emo’s don’t usually go to prom, she gets up and struts off, in all her girlishness and peppiness. And Jisung simply has to watch her go before he shrugs and tugs his headphones back into his ear. He notices that the clock has hit 3:30 p.m. He’s free to go home, but he decides to linger. An entire _Sleeping With Sirens_ album later and it starts to rain. Unfortunately, Jisung rejected Taeyong’s offer of an umbrella that morning and he’s only clad in a black t shirt and black jeans. He tugs his black beanie further down over his head, adjusts his black messenger back and decides to simply rush home as fast as possible to avoid the worse of the downfall. After simply nodding his farewell to his emo congregates, he rushes home, taking care not to run (emo’s don’t run), but to walk as quickly as possible.

The rain starts out in light patters that soon grow into an outright downpour. Luckily, Jisung’s house is only a ten-minute walk from the school, but with Jisung’s quick footsteps, it turns into a good seven. Pretty soon, he’s passing the alleyway with the dumpsters. And in the heavy downpour, Jisung lets out a frightened gasp when something jumps out at him. But his fear is quickly dispelled when he recognizes his assailant. Its fur is soaked and clinging to its small body, it’s tail like a trail of wet cotton pads, and its brown eyes are still so warm despite how small and pathetic it looks standing in the rain: the kitten from that morning, and the poor creature was shaking from the rain.

 Jisung knows his dad is allergic to cats and kittens, but he can’t leave his friend to freeze to death in the cold rain. So, he reaches down and scoops the kitten into his arms, and then he continues the rush to his house. He can feel the tiny creature shivering against his chest, and it makes his heart feel a bit strange when he rushes up the pathway to his house and unlocks his front door with shaky hands.

“I’m home!” He calls out, expecting to be met with silence.

“I’m in the kitchen! Dinners almost ready!” Taeyong’s pleasant voice calls back, making Jisung frown. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and glances at the wet screen. The time 5:45 p.m. flashes on the screen and he realizes he spent more time on the library steps than he thought. Wiggling in his arms catches his attention, it’s the tiny kitten squirming uncomfortably due to its wet fur.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you.” Jisung whispers, rushing up the stairs with his new friend cradled in his arms. He kicks his room door open with his foot and hurriedly makes his way over to his bed, where he gently deposits the little kitten. He gives the tiny creature a firm look, “Stay put, I’ll be right back.”

And then, he rushes back out of the room and down the stairs, nearly slipping in his wet socks, before he hurries to the kitchen, where Taeyong is squinting at a pot on the stove as he stirs whatever is in inside.

“Hey, how was school?” He asks when he notices Jisung, who is making his way towards the refrigerator.

“Fine” Is Jisung’s abrupt reply as he opens the fridge and scans its contents. The entire time he wonders: what did kittens eat beside cat food? Seeing nothing that a kitten would remotely enjoy, he looks over at the pot Taeyong is stirring in and asks, “What is that?”

At Jisung’s question, Taeyong glances inside the pot before squinting at the various ingredients strewn on the counter as if trying to figure it out as well. Sensing his brother’s dilemma, Jisung quickly waves the question off.

“Never mind” He says quickly, to which Taeyong looks visibly relieved. Jisung decides to snag a bag of carrots from the bottom tray. They were small and his kitten should be able to handle them until Jisung could find it better food.

“Do you really want to spoil your appetite with carrots?” Taeyong asks when he sees Jisung closing the fridge and turning to leave with an entire bag of carrots. The elder pouts slightly then, motioning to his pot of whatever on the stove, “I’ve been working on this since four.”

‘ _And yet you don’t know what it is_.’ Jisung thinks, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“I should be fine.” He says instead, preparing to leave. He catches sight of Taeyong nodding before pulling a notepad from his apron pocket titled “Jisungie’s phases”, under the “emo phase 1” section he writes “really enjoys carrots” under “often compares soul to Sharpies”.  But Jisung doesn’t have time to be offended, his kitten was freezing. He hurries out of the kitchen, back up the stairs, and into the bathroom where he snags two towels. And then he rushes back into his room only to find that his kitten is no longer on the bed, as he had told it to stay. Instead, his kitten is directly in the middle of the floor of his room, chewing and fighting with his Ryan plush that Taeyong bought him for his birthday a few years back. Jisung can’t even find it in himself to be upset, instead he smiles as he watches his kitten bare its teeth to the plush before charging and hopping on top of it, paws linking around its neck like a wrestler.

“Hey, hey, no fighting!” Jisung calls out softly, though he isn’t really scolding his kitten. His tiny friend hops up then, and clambers towards him on tiny paws. Jisung gets down on his knees then, placing the bag of carrots beside him. He unfolds one of the towels and holds his arms open. The kitten seems to realize his intentions and rushes forward, allowing Jisung to scoop them up into the towel. Jisung dries the kitten off as best as possible, taking care to be gentle and thorough. He can hear the door open downstairs, but he ignores it because he knows it’s his brother, Johnny, the only one who doesn’t make his presence known when he comes home. True enough, he can hear his brother’s loud mouth downstairs, telling Taeyong about all of the hot people he saw at the gym. Jisung rolls his eyes before returning his attention to his kitten. He drops the towel when he’s finished drying the creature off, revealing his tiny friend with now dry fur that was starting to become fluffy and big again. Jisung laughs at how his kitten looks like a tiny lion before he remembers the bag of carrots that prompt him to ask softly, “Are you hungry?”

As if understanding him, his kitten pauses before approaching the bag of carrots and pawing gently. Jisung clutches his chest, wondering how something so small can be so _cute_. He grabs the bag of carrots then, tearing it open and offering a carrot to his tiny friend. Like earlier, the kitten does a tiny leap, snatching the carrot from his palm with its mouth. Jisung watches the gentle creature munch on the treat happily, a sight that makes him happy as well. He figures that he doesn’t have to be emo in the privacy of his room; here, he can just be Jisung. And Jisung likes kittens, especially _his_ kitten.

“Hey emo boy, can I have one of your eyeliner pencils? I saw this really cute girl at the gym, and I want to give her something nice.” Johnny’s voice sounds just outside his room and before he knows it his brother is barging inside, scaring Jisung’s kitten who jumps and then scrambles in Jisung’s lap for safety. But Johnny ignores both Jisung and his kitten, making his way to his younger brother’s nightstand and digging for a spare eyeliner pencil without Jisung’s permission. Taeyong is behind him, smiling pleasantly as if they aren’t breaking and entering into their younger brother’s room.

“Mom’s home.” Taeyong tells Jisung before frowning at the furry bundle in his brother’s lap, “Is that a kitten?”

And then Jisung watches as Taeyong pulls out his “Jisungie’s phases” notepad, flips to “emo phase 1” and scribbles “collects furry friends”.

“He was freezing in the rain and hungry!“ Jisung blurts out a bit desperately, hoping they wouldn’t make him get rid of his kitten.

“He?” Johnny questions, pausing in his eyeliner search to glance at the kitten skeptically. Jisung frowns, looking his kitten over for any signs of a gender, but he doesn’t see any, oddly enough.

“I’m home! Where are my precious boys?” Their mothers sweet voice calls out from outside the room before she walks in, in her scrubs. She’s holding a pile of crumpled material that looks like paper, rolled into bundles and covered in rubber bands. His mother smiles serenely as she holds the bundles out for them to see, “I have something to share with you guys!”

“And what exactly is that?” Johnny asks, while Jisung and Taeyong peer curiously.

“It’s sage!” Their mother exclaims, beaming proudly as she explains, “I bought it from a healer off the streets.”

“Oh God” Johnny mumbles, earning a smack on the back from Taeyong, who’s smiling in support of their mother. But Johnny merely grumbles, “What? The last time she bought something from a ‘healer’ on the streets, the whole house smelled like weed for an entire month-“

“Well, Johnny, honey, this is not like that.” Their mother defends in her gentle voice. The small woman places the hand not holding her bundles on her hip as she claims, “This is the real deal.”

“Why did you buy sage?” Jisung asks. Their mother could be a bit random at times.

“Well, they say sage is supposed to dispel any negative energy.” Their mother explains, “Say if something were bothering us, like really annoying us – we could get rid of the negative energy brought along by it by burning this – see, Taeyong come help me burn one of these.”

Taeyong obeys, approaching their mother and taking the lighter she pulls from the pocket of her scrubs.  

“I’m home!” Their father calls from downstairs, making their mother curse quietly as she pulls one bundle of sage from the rest to burn, “You all won’t believe the analogy I came up with on the way home.”

“Taeyong, honey, burn it faster.” Their mother urges at the sound of their father’s footsteps taking the stairs, and Jisung’s figures that’s why she bought the sage in the first place. Eventually, Taeyong manages to light the sage, and not soon after, smoke begins to emerge from it. Their mother smiles in relief before calling out to their father, “That’s great honey! Why don’t you stay downstairs, we’ll be down in a second!”

Their father doesn’t reply, but they can hear his footsteps pause, before turning and fading as he returns back downstairs. Their mother visibly sighs in relief.

“Taeyong, why don’t you go downstairs and keep your father company?” She says, placing the sage in her son’s hands, “And make sure he gets a good whiff of this okay, make sure it’s in his sight… you know, to ward off that bad energy.”

Taeyong nods obediently, like the good son he is, before leaving the room with a bundle of burning sage in his hands. Their mother looks like a weight has been lifted off of her shoulders. She lets out another sigh before glancing around the room, where her eyes finally land on Jisung and the furry bundle in his lap.

“Is that a kitten?” She asks, smiling as if she can’t really believe her eyes.

“Yeah, and dad is allergic to those.” Johnny speaks up, glancing at their mother as if waiting for her to freak out and demand Jisung get rid of the creature. But their mother simply shrugs and leans down to pet the small kitten. Johnny himself frowns before adding, “And you know, people can die from allergic reactions.”

“And we definitely wouldn’t want that to happen or anything.” Their mother jokes awkwardly, eye twitching briefly in a way that makes both Johnny and Jisung frown. But then she returns to smiling pleasantly and reaches over to pet the kitten one last time, telling Jisung, “The kitten stays in your room. Taeyong’s going to the grocery store tomorrow, I’ll have him buy some cat foods and snacks for him… her… it. Anyway, dinners ready, come down soon.”

And then, after giving Jisung a gentle pat on the shoulder and Johnny a pleasant smile, she turns to leave.

“How am I related to any of you?” Johnny wonders of their family once she’s gone. But Jisung merely shrugs in response. He asks himself the same thing sometimes. Johnny sighs before turning his attention to Jisung’s kitten, “What are you going to name her… him… it?”

“You said it was a girl, right?” Jisung replies, playing with his kitten’s paws gently, “I was thinking Lele.”

“Jisung, it’s 2019. It doesn’t matter if it’s a girl, a boy, a they, or a them – names are gender neutral. It can be a Lele either way.” Johnny tells him, for once making sense in his gym rat, testosterone overloaded brain.

“So Lele it is.” Jisung says, scratching at the fur on Lele’s head in a way that makes the kitten nuzzle against his chest. From the corner of his eye, he sees Johnny preparing to leave, abandoning his search for eyeliner. Suddenly feeling helpful, Jisung calls out to him quickly, “Do you still need the eyeliner?”

“I’m pretty sure mom is plotting to kill dad. And Taeyong is plotting to kill us all with whatever he’s boiled down there in that pot, that he supposedly cannot remember the name of.” Johnny replies in a dreadful voice, “Forget the eyeliner, my life is in shambles.”

“That sounds nice.” Jisung hums, too focused on petting Lele to care about his brother’s dramatics, “Save me a seat at the table.”

“Oh, I’ll save you a seat alright.” Johnny says, pausing in the doorway to look back with an evil grin, “Right next to dad.”

Jisung’s eyes widen then and he quickly stops petting his kitten to glance at his brother.

“You wouldn’t.” He says evenly, eyes narrowed threateningly. He loved his father, but he really couldn’t stand to endure the elder’s constant stream of water analogies. Sometimes he understood his mom – he thought he might go crazy soon. And here his brother was, threatening to make him endure an entire dinner of water analogies.

“Oh, but I would.”  Is Johnny’s reply followed by his loud laughter as he rushes out of the room to the stairs.

“Sorry Lele, but this is kind of important.” Jisung says, placing his kitten down on the ground before ripping the bag of carrots open fully and dumping them all on the floor. He pets Lele one last time, telling the small kitten, “I’ll be right back!”

And then, the tiny kitten cocks its head to the side as it watches Jisung rush from the room. The creature glances at the carrots strewn on the floor before blinking. And then, it’s eyes narrow on the Ryan plush. The tiny kitten puffs out its chest then before charging at the Ryan plush, sinking its teeth into the plushie’s shoulder, like the tiny warrior it was.

 

 

 

 

 _______

 

 

 

 

Apparently, his brother Johnny isn’t as evil as he claims to be. At dinner, Jisung sits beside Johnny and his mother, who burns through her entire bundle of sage as if her life depends on it. Their father is so busy choking on the fumes that he doesn’t have time to make any water analogies and their mother smiles the happiest they have ever seen because of it. They eat a soup that Taeyong has made that doesn’t have any discernible smells or ingredients, but Taeyong smiles happily as he fills their bowls high. Jisung figures that if he’s going to die, he would at least be full. So, he eats two bowl, while Johnny sifts through and eyes wearily just one bowl.

After dinner, Jisung rushes upstairs and takes a shower. The warmth feels good on his freezing skin. He showers quicker than usual, eager to get back to Lele. Once he’s out of the shower, he changes into his pajamas quickly and rushes to his room, only to find Lele fighting and biting at his Ryan plush again.

“You really don’t like Ryan, do you?” Jisung laughs, bending down to pick up his kitten. He makes his way to his bed then, falling down on it and making Lele bounce on his chest. Once they’re settled, Lele turns in the direction of where the Ryan plush is lying face down and the small kitten growls. Jisung grins in amusement before tilting his head to the side, “He’s really popular. Everyone likes him.”

But Lele just turns away from Ryan and paws his way up Jisung’s chest, nuzzling his chin.

“Oh, I see. You only like Jisungie, huh Lele?” Jisung teases, but as if understanding his words, the kitten continues to nuzzle his chin, his wet nose making Jisung feel ticklish. But for some reason, Jisung starts to feel a bit down. He glances at the Ryan plush on the floor then and murmurs quietly, “Jisung wants to be like Ryan.”

Suddenly, exhaustion was beginning to sneak up on him like an old friend. The warmth of his bed and the softness of Lele’s fur as the kitten nuzzles against him is too much. Jisung pets Lele sluggishly before his arms fall to his sides tiredly.

“Imagine if everyone liked me.” He murmurs, blinking blearily. He was starting to fall asleep. Jisung blinks once, then twice, and each time the room grows even more bleary, “…. Imagine if everyone liked the real me.”

Lele curls up on its owner’s chest as Park Jisung loses himself to the dream world. The tiny kitten closes its eyes then, following its new owner soon after. From the doorway Taeyong smiles a bit sadly, having caught the last of Jisung’s words. He came to wish his brother a good night, only to catch him already falling asleep.

“We already love the real you, Jisung.” He says quietly before reaching over and turning off the lights. He glances at his brother one last time, taking note of how content he looked with the tiny kitten curled up on his chest, a sight that makes Taeyong smile before he turns to leave, closing the door gently behind him and cloaking Park Jisung’s room in darkness.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was more of an introduction to Jisung's life and his character. But I hope it was enjoyable and that this story seems promising. Also, Chenle is not an actual kitten, Jisung just thinks he is bc of his small and fluffy appearance. He's actually a tiny fox (demon).


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